Monthly Archives: September 2014

Larry Au says bleak pronouncements about Hong Kong’s future do not account for a city that thrives on reinventing itself, and a generation of inspiring youth who dare to speak truth to power

The weeks following Beijing’s decision on the political framework for the chief executive election have been characterised by collective shock, disbelief and anger among pro-democracy activists and their sympathisers in Hong Kong. Radio and television current affairs shows have been full of angry shouting as the public phoned in to air their discontent. Newspaper articles talked again of how “the city is dying” and questioned whether it was time to “leave dear Hong Kong”. Even some pro-establishment politicians expressed their surprise at the restrictiveness of the ruling.

It is hard under these conditions not to be pessimistic about Hong Kong’s future, now that genuine electoral reform in 2017 seems next to impossible. But there is still reason for hope.

Saskia Sassen of Columbia University wrote an article last year titled “Does the city have speech?”, where she proposed the notion that cities have a way of speaking – in the abstract sense – to their inhabitants through interactions between the concrete and social elements. An example she gives is that of the traffic jam, where a car is brought to a sudden halt as it exits a highway. This is a way for the city to tell its inhabitants that the mass use of cars, or a particular configuration of infrastructure, is unsustainable. According to her, it is because of this capacity for speech that cities are able to resist forces that threaten their very existence, as well as to outlast more rigid and closed systems such as nation-states, corporations and empires.

Sassen argues that what makes cities resilient are two characteristics: complexity and incompleteness.

Complexity rests on interdependence. When “hard” infrastructure such as a power grid fails in a city, it affects residents indiscriminately, regardless of race, religion or other markers. The same applies to “soft” infrastructure, such as when the rule of law comes under threat, as this affects small businesses and multinational corporations alike.

A political system modelled after principles of propertied enfranchisement prevalent in 19th-century Britain and America, aimed at protecting the interests of a minority economic elite, is not only morally wrong, but simply bad policy. It does nothing to solve the deep-seated inequalities in our society that our current electoral system perpetuates. Sooner or later, more will realise this.

Already, within the past few weeks, contrary to what NPC Standing Committee chairman Zhang Dejiang believes, we have seen a shift of public opinion against the National People’s Congress decision. According to a recent poll by the Chinese University of Hong Kong, 54 per cent of the public now support a veto of restrictive reform proposals, in comparison to just 29 per cent against such action.

Last week’s class boycotts, organised by student committees representing all tertiary institutions and backed by some 400 academics from all major disciplines, were unprecedented.

Evidence also shows that the business community is gradually realising the harm to governance that political inequality poses. Chairman and chief executive of CLSA Jonathan Slone recently remarked that “I haven’t seen any investors say ‘I’m cautious about Hong Kong because of Occupy Central’.” This harks back to what Daiwa Capital Markets observed in its July research note – that threats to Hong Kong’s judicial independence were a bigger concern than Occupy Central.

As the city’s inhabitants realise that the democratic deficit in Hong Kong affects their shared destiny, we will see possibilities for powerful and unlikely alliances emerge.

Incompleteness, on the other hand, is linked to the fact that cities are constantly being remade and reinvented. This is where social movements such as Occupy Central fit in, as the powerless of the city utilise these new coalitions to destabilise dominant narratives and challenge the status quo.

We have seen this over and over again in Hong Kong’s history. Heritage activists during the Star Ferry and Queen’s Pier campaigns forced us to reconsider the place of heritage in development, leading to policy shifts in preservation and initiatives such as PMQ, the former Hollywood Road police married quarters in Central, has been redeveloped as a design hub. Similarly, the movement opposing the high-speed rail showed us the brutality of the expulsions that Tsoi Yuen Chuen’s villagers faced, forcing us to reconsider the place of basic humanity in development.

The present transformation under way within the democratic movement – the new ideology of resistance and the changing of guards – is indicative of a movement reconstituting itself as it attempts to offer an even more compelling vision of the city’s future in order to win over hearts and minds. If they do not succeed in time for 2017 in securing a genuine choice for Hong Kong, they will surely succeed later.

As legislator Dennis Kwok once put it to me: “Those who bet against Hong Kong always end up losing.” The capacity for the city to speak will continue to grow and it will only speak louder to ensure its survival – until it is heard.

But perhaps there is an even simpler reason for optimism: this generation of students who have, again and again, showed their willingness to stand up and speak truth to power. If they are indeed the leaders of tomorrow’s Hong Kong, we can still hope for change.

Larry Au is a graduate student in sociology at the Department of International Development at the University of Oxford

David Zweig looks at how China’s worries about Western interference threatening its national security were the main motivation behind the decision to set strict limits on Hong Kong’s political reform process

Some observers explain that the very restrictive nomination process for universal suffrage in 2017 directed by the National People’s Congress Standing Committee was driven by the Communist Party’s fear of losing power in Hong Kong and the demonstration effect on Chinese society.

However, an alternative explanation is Beijing’s worries about national security. In the eyes of many Chinese government and party officials, “civic” nomination and a low threshold (under 15 per cent) for the nominating committee that would allow a pan-democrat to run would open the door to Western “interference” on China’s sovereign territory.

Due to the problems in Xinjiang and Tibet and the fact that the Uygurs have brought their anger into Han China, spending on national security surpassed spending on national defence in 2011. As China also asserts its sovereign claims over disputed territories in neighbouring seas, it now finds a “re-engaged” US military supporting states that feel bullied by it.

Compared to on the mainland, foreign intelligence agencies freely collect information in Hong Kong and, according to WikiLeaks, diplomats regularly meet opponents of the central government.

Albert Ho Chun-yan, a leader of the Democratic Party and candidate for chief executive in 2012, told me that, in such meetings, he informs consular officials about the Democratic Party’s plans but never receives strategic advice from them. Still, Edward Snowden’s revelations have confirmed Chinese fears that the US collects intelligence in Hong Kong.

Chinese officials magnify such meetings as proof of US meddling in Hong Kong. After the massive anti-Article 23 march of July 1, 2003, Gao Siren, then director of the central government’s liaison office here, made a ludicrous claim that all marchers received US$100 from the US consulate. The US consul general said he only wished he had US$50 million.

According to Hong Kong sources, this March, NPC chairman Zhang Dejiang , the Politburo Standing Committee’s point man on Hong Kong, told government officials responsible for affairs here that they must fight “foreign interests” who use Hong Kong to undermine China’s authority. In his view, “international political forces and anti-Communist Party international organisations” are deeply involved in transforming Hong Kong into an anti-Communist Party and anti-China region and making Hong Kong “a battlefield of international political power”. Immediately, mainland officials of various stripes sought examples of US and British efforts to use Hong Kong’s political reform to destabilise China.

Counterarguments could not convince these mainland officials that foreigners were not promoting Occupy Central to undermine China’s sovereignty in Hong Kong. After all, the US and Britain have so much invested in Hong Kong stability.

But pan-democrats ignored Beijing’s worries about national security. While Anson Chan Fang On-sang and Martin Lee Chu-ming visited Washington and London to rekindle interest in Hong Kong’s democratic struggle, those trips did mobilise foreign governments to become more involved in what China sees as its internal security.

For the first time since 2007, the US Congress will resume annual reporting under the 1992 US-Hong Kong Policy Act, and Britain’s House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee has initiated an inquiry into Beijing’s record in promoting freedom here as stipulated in the Joint Declaration of 1984. Those efforts will stoke China’s deep fear of foreign interference.

Denials of US involvement also became more difficult after someone hacked Jimmy Lai Chee-ying’s files and showed that Mark Simon, an American who had headed the Hong Kong chapter of Republicans Abroad, dispersed funds for Lai to pan-democrats, who failed to report such donations, and for aiding Occupy Central.

But Lai, as a Hongkonger, has the same right to do so as the tycoons who regularly donate millions to pro-Beijing parties – particularly the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment and Progress of Hong Kong – who also fail to report this critical support.

Central leaders also worry that Taiwanese pro-independence forces will make Hong Kong’s democratic movement an anti-mainland effort. So when student leaders from Taiwan’s Sunflower movement, which “occupied” Taiwan’s Legislative Yuan earlier this year, tried to enter Hong Kong in late June, mainland officials were thrilled they were refused entry, but worry that a pan-democratic chief executive might not prevent such “infiltration” from Taiwan.

From Beijing’s perspective, Hong Kong has long been a source of anti-Communist Party activities. In 1989, when students in Tiananmen Square challenged the communist authority, Hong Kong raised over HK$1 million to support that occupation. Also, Operation Yellowbird smuggled student leaders, who were labelled “criminals”, to safety in Hong Kong.

Yet the NPC’s decision, which may bring to power in 2017 a chief executive lacking public support and legitimacy, might destabilise Hong Kong and China’s national security more than an open electoral process. If the pan-democrats vote down the government’s reform plan, making it possible for Chief Executive Leung Chun-ying to be re-elected, Hong Kong could become another thorn in Beijing’s side, which will be difficult to control without worldwide criticism.

The risk of escalation into social unrest in Hong Kong has increased since the NPC Standing Committee decision. Beijing should have allowed a lower nominating threshold, which would have created the possibility for a democrat to run, as the possibility of a pan-democrat winning is extremely small.

Many members of the democratic camp have reportedly told mainland officials that the pan-democrats might promise not to put forward a candidate this time if a more democratic system were put in place.

But, in the eyes of the leadership in Beijing, and many officials in China working on Hong Kong affairs, in the current domestic and international climate, allowing a system that could even possibly allow for the election of a chief executive with close ties to the US or Britain was simply too scary.

David Zweig is chair professor of social science at the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology and senior research fellow at the Asia-Pacific Foundation of Canada

Philip Yeung believes native-speaking English teachers will be at their most effective in raising students’ language ability if they are given more support and training, and cultural exchange is encouraged

The native-speaking English teacher (NET) scheme has been a part of our local public school system for the past 15 years. It has grown into a HK$710 million, 900-strong operation, complete with its own mini-bureaucracy.

Despite the trappings of a fully fledged scheme, it has within it pockets of immaturity. Periodically, there are rumblings of complaint from both sides. Sweep these differences under the rug, and the programme may never live up to its promise.

The scheme was born of a desire to give our public schools a more English-rich environment. That is the narrower goal. The wider perspective is that we need fresh thinking in our system. Ideally, native English teachers can function as change agents. But change is a bridge too far if catalysts are few and far between.

Native English teachers used to have to split their time between several schools. Now each school has its own. But having one teacher per school, offering a single 35-minute English lesson per week, is like trying to douse a wild fire with a bucket of water. As the Cantonese saying goes, “you can’t clap with one hand”; a single teacher can’t produce the desired ripple effect. Acting alone, and subject to the vagaries of the system, the teacher’s style is seriously cramped.

The figure of HK$710 million sounds like a lot of money, but spread so thinly, it tapers into a half-measure. At-risk schools need more than just a token foreign teacher. They deserve a critical mass, especially if they have cut their teeth on transforming students from challenged backgrounds.

Our education system is splintered. We have a full spectrum of schools, from the private to the public, and everything in between. Sadly, there is little traffic between them. Each school, whatever its pigeonhole, tends to do its own thing. They regard other schools either with apathy or a mild competitive antipathy.

If there is little inter-school co-operation, there is even less inter-system relationship. That is why the new chief executive of the English Schools Foundation, Belinda Greer, comes to us like a breath of fresh air. For the first time, the ESF’s head is reaching out to local schools by offering to share its proven pedagogy and best practices. The government should take her up on the offer, with native English teachers perhaps being the go-between.

In return, it should rescind its decision to phase out the ESF subsidy, which may price out many mid-level expatriates attracted to this global city. With this partnership, the ESF would no longer be just another self-absorbed international school system. Native English teachers could also participate in the 80 professional development activities for ESF teachers. Together, they might just create public education’s “perfect storm”, and a partnership unique in world education.

To induct new entrants, there should be less focus on the mundane mechanics of “living in Hong Kong”, such as how to open a bank account, and more on understanding what makes local teachers tick. The yawning cultural gap between locals and foreigners cannot be ignored. Both should leave their own comfort zone and befriend the other. Bear in mind that local teachers who don’t appear forthcoming may only be shy or linguistically challenged. For the 15 per cent attrition rate to drop, native English teachers should be encouraged to embrace their local colleagues, if not the local culture.

Typically, local principals accuse NETs of avoiding paperwork, including correcting exercises. Coming from educational systems with an anti-clerical tradition, the teachers’ logic is that people don’t become teachers in order to be clerks.

Meanwhile, poor local teachers spend about one-third of their time doing paperwork and writing reports that nobody reads. But native English teachers must face the fact that, in this exam-driven environment, correcting exercises is a necessary evil. Granted, a school system where paperwork proliferates is a system that has veered from education’s true purpose.

Native English teachers’ greater challenge is to help students cross the cultural divide. Language education is never just about language alone, for language is a carrier of culture. The local curriculum is almost devoid of cultural content through reading, the strong suit of these teachers.

Trawling the internet with students for stories or articles that are entertaining or educational, or for lyrics of English folk songs, and sharing English-language movies with students, are all part of teaching them to grow an English tongue, if not an English heart. To deliver the scheme’s promise, native-speaking English teachers need to get English into the students’ bloodstream. Its practitioners must exploit their art and ancillary resources to the full.

Philip Yeung is co-founder of the Hong Kong Society for the Promotion of English and former speechwriter to the president of the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology.